


Brush With Goldness

by salamandelbrot



Series: Old School Wrasslesmut [16]
Category: Extreme Championship Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 1997, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Double Anal Penetration, Feminization, Gangbang, Implied/Referenced Incest, Jealousy, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Nipple Play, Sloppy Seconds, Spitroast, Voyeurism, Watersports, sex-toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamandelbrot/pseuds/salamandelbrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As per their SummerSlam stipulation, Goldust and Marlena get Brian Pillman in a dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brush With Goldness

**Author's Note:**

> The crossdressing is canon, I'm pretty sure the gangbang was suggested by Marlena in one of her promos, and Road Dogg's proclivity for fondling Brian's nipples was demonstrated live on Raw. No kink party like a wrestling kink party!
> 
> Also, Goldust and Marlena had been doing a kinda-semi-worked-shoot thing in their interviews around this time, because 90s, hence the occasional Dustin and Terri from characters who would. It's all still set in kayfabe, just weird, 90s kayfabe. :p

"Flats?" Marlena cast a scornful eye at the offending footwear. Oh, they were cute enough for playing princess, sure, but they didn't exactly have sex appeal. "Are you going to junior prom, Brian?"

"Take it up with Stone Cold."

"Mm. Well, we'll just have to make do." She stepped forward and twirled a lock of his hair in her fingers. "Now, what are we going to do about this?"

Brian smacked her hand away. "I already did what we're gonna do about this. What?" He tossed his head and grinned at her, curls bouncing. "You don't think I look pretty?"

"I wouldn't let you on the red carpet, but I suppose you'll do for where we're going. Dustin, baby, can you do his makeup?" She smiled ruefully at her husband. "He's a little tall for me."

"Sure, hon." She watched appreciatevely as Goldust painted Brian's face, tilting his head how he wanted it, having Brian open and close his eyes. Brian was being a surprisingly good boy throughout the proceedings. As much as he ran that smart mouth, he was a slut for a little attention.

Goldust finished with the pretty gold gloss she'd picked out for Brian's lips. Chances were, it wouldn't last long but, still, a good director took pride in the little details.

"Hands." Brian held his hands out obediently. She took his left hand in both of hers and began the process of roughing up his fingernails with a file. To her right, Goldust was doing the same. After applying a dollop of glue, she pressed the gold nail to his forefinger and held it on, gentle but firm. To her amusement, she could see color rising to Brian's cheeks. She moved to the middle finger. If he wanted to be touched so badly, he _was_ in for a special evening.

She and Goldust worked like a well-oiled machine and it wasn't long before they'd finished his nails. Puffing her cigar, Marlena walked around Brian to get a view from all angles. "Lift up your skirt and show me what you've got on underneath."

Leering, Brian complied. The panties were made of red lace, cheap looking material, she wasn't surprised to note, and she could see his cock right through it. She didn't have to look through the fabric to see his balls, there wasn't enough of it to cover them. 

"I was going to have you tuck," she told him, reaching a hand between his legs and pressing an expert finger up past his balls. "But it hardly matters with what you're packing." He snarled even though he was rocking against her finger. "Pillman nine millimeter? More like Pillman derringer."

Brian let go of the skirt in favor of trying to drag her hand onto his dick. She let him start then grabbed his balls and gave a warning squeeze until he dropped his hands and pouted at her.

"Fix your dress," she told him, withdrawing her hand and casting a withering glance at the rumpled skirt riding high on his thighs. "You look cheap."

Brian smoothed his skirts like a good girl and let Goldust take his arm. He was nice and docile while they led him from their dressing room to the restroom they'd picked out. It was a bit of a walk across the building but, judging by the unsightly bulge ruining the line of his dress, Brian was appreciating all the attention they were attracting.

She reached over and pinched his hard-on. "Nice girls don't get all hot and bothered when strange men talk like that. Honestly, Brian, what are we going to do with you?"

He grinned at her.

"Well." She smiled. "I suppose we _are_."

The restroom was unoccupied when they arrvied. Fairly clean, too, not that it was likely to stay that way. While Goldust began to lay out the selection of lubricants, condoms, and other accoutrements they had purchased for their little party, Marlena reached up and grabbed a handful of hair at the back of Brian's head. He let her bend him over the counter, between the sinks, and she ran her hand down his back, over his ass and thighs, smoothing the dress down. "I've never seen you so sweet, Brian. You must wanna get fucked real bad, huh?" He moaned obscenely and wriggled his ass, lolling his tongue at her in the mirror. She laid a hard smack on his thighs with a satin gloved hand. "I know 'slutty' comes naturally to you, but at least _try_ to be a lady until the first dick is in you."

She held Brian's wrists together behind his back while Goldust wrapped the gold lamé around them, affixing it with a lovely bow. They stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"He does look awfully pretty," her husband said, wrapping an arm around her.

Marlena smiled up at him. "We did good work." She turned back to look at Brian, bent over the counter with his pert little ass on offer for anyone who cared to push up his dress. "Now we just have to wait for the guests to arrive." 

* * *

"Hello, Steve." Marlena smirked at him and blew a smoke ring. 

Steve just grunted. He didn't give a damn if Marlena and her man got their jollies watching or not, but Steve wasn't here to chat with them.

It didn't look like anyone'd been at him yet, even though he was bent over the sink with a goddamned gold bow tying his wrists back. That skimpy little dress he was in was clean and not wrinkled up, so unless he'd just got fucked by the world's biggest neat-freak, what he had on offer wasn't sloppy seconds, which suited Stone Cold just goddamn fine. He stepped behind him to get a better look.

"What the fuck kind of shoes are those? Son, you look like the bride's ugly sister."

"Tough titty, I hung up the fuck-me pumps after a certain ankle injury. You might remember it."

"So what you're telling me," he drawled, meeting Brian's eyes in the mirror, "is that I ruined your ass so bad you ain't even fit for whoring?"

He could see Brian biting his lip to hold back a moan. Lord knew that wouldn't last long, there were whole goddamn hotel chains in which they were no longer welcome thanks to Brian's inability to shut the hell up when he was getting fucked. When Steve laid his hands on his hips, not even really grabbing yet, just feeling how it felt, Brian dropped his head and shook like a leaf. Then he snapped his head up, flipping his hair out of his face, and looked Steve dead in the eye.

"I'm telling you to finish the job." 

Steve flipped up his skirt and groaned at the sight of Brian's ass in those panties. He couldn't resist whipping his dick out of his pants just to paint a little precome on that red lace. 

Pressing a knee between his legs, Steve bent forward, chest flush against Brian's back. "You hard for it?" he growled against Brian's neck, wrapping an arm around his waist to paw him through his dress. "You gonna come in your little panties?"

Brian rolled his hips, dragging lace along Steve's cock. "'Bout as hard as you are. Better hurry up and get in me before you make it all over my back, 'Stone Cold.'" 

Steve laughed and grabbed the KY off the counter - Goldust and his old lady were two of the biggest freaks he knew, but they'd done alright with this little set up. "Oh, I'll get in you. Get ready, son, because here I come." He slicked himself up and gripped the base of his cock. 

"Hey, hey, hey!"" 

"What?" He hadn't meant it to come out sounding so goddamn concerned, but when a guy you tagged with for that long got all fucking urgent on you, the bottom line was it was gonna come out that way. 

"You're gonna have to open me up some first." 

Steve rolled his eyes and gave his dick a tug. "Jesus Christ, Brian, since when do you need a fingerfucking to get ready?" It was the most natural thing in the world to lay a fond slap right in the middle of those little red panties before he slid them aisde. 

"Since I can't fucking relax around you!" 

He kept his eyes on his work while he eased Brian open. He went gentle, because Brian was about as tight as Vince's wallet, and since he didn't have anything to do with his other hand, he rubbed circles on the small of Brian's back. The hitching that crept into Brian's breath wasn't any of his business so he ignored it, until he was three fingers deep and getting tired of watching the muscles in Brian's back twitch. "You're gonna mess your face up."

"Just shut up and fuck me."

It was a habit to fuck Brian the way he liked - the way he grabbed his hips, the angle he went in at, it was all automatic. Brian moaned, tossing his head and clenching his fists behind his back. He was as hot as ever, all dolled up in his slutty little dress and too much makeup. Hell, not that Steve had been dwelling on it, but his paint job was still goddamned pristene, so it didn't look like Brian had shed any tears. Steve squeezed his hip hard and put a little extra on his next thrust to drag an ecstatic gasp out of Brian. It looked good, with that gold lipstick on. If he'd known how good five years ago, he would've earned some Mary Kay lady her pink caddilac fucking Brian's mouth in every color of the rainbow. 

He knew he wouldn't last, it'd been too long and nothing on God's green earth felt like fucking Brian Pillman. "C'mon, Brian, c'mon, ruin those little panties for me. Ain't like you're gonna be pristine for the next guy in line." Brian had gotten down to yelping and cussing and demanding a harder fucking the way he always did, he wouldn't need much more to bring him off. That was damn lucky as far as Steve was concerned, his neck was giving him hell. He pressed on, panting as he pounded Brian harder. 

"You're gonna have my hand prints on you-" he squeezed Brian's hips harder "-and my come in you, and every man that has your ass is gonna know 'Stone Cold was here.'" 

"Ah, fuck! Steve!" Brian bucked back against him, hands clenching behind his back. Steve reached around to feel the mess Brian'd made of his panties. That and the way Brian was shaking, slumped against the counter, was enough to bring him off. 

Just in time, too. Before he'd really gotten a chance to savor the feeling of coming in Brian's sweet ass again, lightning shot down his left arm. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He planted his right hand on the small of Brian's back to hold himself steady.

Brian's fingers circled his wrist. "Jesus, Steve. Did I fuck you into a wheelchair?"

"I got enough mother hens in the back room, don't you start with me, son."

He pushed himself up straight when he heard the door bang open. It was the goddamn Headbangers, here to stick it to Brian just like half the roster probably would. Well, he wasn't here to watch these ugly bastards fuck so Steve headed for the door as soon as he'd zipped his flies. 

"Leaving so soon, Steve?" asked Brian, watching him in the mirror. 

"No reason to stay. I got what I wanted." He stormed out of the bathroom without looking back.

He stormed back in again maybe an hour later with a cooler full of beer and a camp chair.

"Back already, Steve?" Brian sounded awfully smug for a guy getting cornholed by one of the Godwinns.

"Fucking Slaughter and Monsoon still won't clear me to wrestle. It ain't white tail season. What the fuck else was I doing tonight?" He set his chair up to give him a good view and sat down with his cooler beside him. He was gonna sit in his chair, drink a little beer, and it was gonna be a goddamed party.

Brian was getting pounded hard enough to drive him up off his feet, but from what Steve could see the Godwinn's cock wasn't much to write home about. Thick, sure, but not real long, and Brian liked it deep. Sorry son-of-a-bitch should have strapped it on, that was what Goldust and his old lady left the damn things there for. 

He shoved as deep in Brian as his little prick could go and Steve could see from the come bubbling out that hadn't wrapped it up either, the nasty bastard. He patted Brian on the ass like he probably did to his hogs when he pulled out. Steve cracked a cold beer and chuckled at the tent in Brian's little panties. Poor Brian. Looked like he wasn't getting what he needed from these pig farmers after all. 

Even as he panted, Brian was eyeing the squirrely blond who'd stepped up behind him like a cat watching a bat.

"Show me your fucking licence, kiddo, I ain't that much of a pervert."

Steve laughed while the kid blushed redder than a firetruck and rooted through his fanny pack for some ID. Eventually, he produced a driver's license in shaking hands.

"Hold it up. Hold it _still_. Jeff Hardy from North Carolina," he read. "And you're twenty?" He pulled a mock serious glare that set Steve off laughing again. "Is this a fake, son?"

"No, sir." 

Brian's voice turned sultry. "You ever fucked a man before, Jeff?"

"No, sir."

"And a nice boy like you wants me to pop your cherry? In this filthy restroom?" He laughed when the kid nodded, eyes as big as saucers. "Well, c'mere, Jeff, you don't need a written invitation. You don't even need any lube. You know how many men's jizz is gonna be on your pretty little cock?" The kid whimpered and shivered and blushed even brighter. In the mirror, Brian smirked at spreading dark patch on his pants. "Or maybe you need a minute?" 

Steve guffawed. "Why don't you come over here and sit on my lap, son? Come find out what a real man's got for you." 

The guy next to little Jeff Hardy from North Carolina glared between the two of them, dick just about busting his zipper for all his righteous frowning. For a minute, Steve thought he might have earned himself a real angry blowjob, but instead he grabbed Brian by the hips and got right up against him. 

"What?" Brian asked. "That your boy?" He grinned wickedly. "You wanna fuck him first? I think you got a few minutes."

"He's my brother, you sicko!" As affronted as he sounded, his dick sure as hell wasn't looking any softer. 

Brian laughed like a loon while the guy set to fucking him. Steve could see Brian's package bouncing in his sopping panties under the kid's rough, frantic thrusts. 

"Mmmm, he sure is pretty, though, isn't he? Think how good he'd look with a cock in his mouth." Brian was showing more teeth than a shark and looking twice as vicious. If the stupid son-of-a-bitch hadn't brought it on his own damn self, Steve might have felt sorry for him. It wasn't just anyone who could handle Brian when he got in the mood to be trouble. "If he was my baby brother, I'd have him giving me road head up and down the house show circuit. And, just so he wouldn't ruin the upholstery, I'd have him swallow too."

Hardy pulled out and jumped back like he'd been burned, shoving a hand in his mouth and biting down too late to cover his whimper. Steve could still hear the dismayed little noise he made when his cock started spurting anyways, adding a little extra mess to the back of Brian's thighs. 

The kid's hand wasn't bleeding when he finally pulled it out of his mouth, but Steve could see the white-on-red ring of teeth marks. "It- it wasn't what you said."

Brian just laughed at him again as he spun around and stormed out of the locker room, hastily tucking his cock back into his pants on his way out the door.

Hardy narrowly missed running straight into Shawn Michaels, who came strutting in with his new big buddies at his back. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see Marlena take a step closer to Goldust when that Chyna woman looked in her direction. 

Brian grinned when Michaels came up behind him, Helmsley trailing just behind like a goddamn duckling.

"Well, what a surprise. Come on, when's the last time you topped? Tell the truth and shame the devil."

The country club boyfriend didn't look like he found that very funny, looked like he was itching to defend his Boy Toy's manhood, as a matter of fact, but Michaels just grinned, leaning forward and propping himself up with his hands on Brian's back. "Last night, with your momma."

"Bullshit you did, my mama strapped it on and reamed you out."

Laughing, Michaels plastered himself against Brian's back. "So what would Bret think of one of his boys pulling a train for the whole damn roster? Tsk, tsk, how shocking." 

They both hissed when Michaels pushed in. 

"He'd be shocked all right," said Brian. "Shocked it wasn't you."

"Is that what The Hitman's pulling the pudding to these days?" Steve didn't think he'd ever heard Michaels sound so smug, and that was damn well saying something. "I'm flattered."

The look in Brian's eyes suggested he had a thing or two to say about that, but warm breath by Steve's ear pulled his attention away. When he turned, he came face-to-mask with Mankind. 

The one-eared freak didn't say a word, just rocked back and forth and skittered his eyes over to Brian once in a while, and Steve didn't feel like a chat, so he just turned back to watch Brian getting plowed. Michaels's head was down, hair hanging in his face, but going by the tension in his arms and shoulders Brian had found some buttons to push. Brian was making eyes at Helmsley in the mirror and Steve thought he might just get himself decked if Helmsley ever tore his eyes off Michaels. 

"Do you like watching?" Mankind asked, inches from his ear. Steve didn't answer, just kept his eyes on Brian. 

He could hear Michaels panting harshly and Brian talking a mile a minute, "never touch you, this is the closest you'll ever-"

"I could- I could do something for you, if you wanted." Steve whippped around around and saw Mankind's eyes shining with hope. His tongue darted out of the slit of his mask to wet his lips. 

"Son, you lay one finger on me and I'll put you in the hospital. If you're so hard up for a cock to suck, try him." He jerked his hear at Brian. "He's giving it up to anyone." 

Mankind flinched back like a dog with a snout full of porcupine needles and slunk over towards Brian, casting the occasional, cow-eyed glance back at Steve. He hung back, hovering outside the circle of Helmsley and Chyna like he was looking for an opening.

When Michaels finally came, yelping like he was hurt, he yanked his cock out and spun on his heel without lifting his head. His posse had to hurry to keep up on his way out the door.

Brian grinned at the crowd in the mirror like a cat with a mouthful of canary. "Who's next?"

Mankind cast one last hangdog look Steve's way then skulked his way right out the door. Faarooq and one of the Blackjacks stepped forward at the same time to take his place on deck. Brian watched them with interest and Steve knew there was nothing he'd like better than a damn brawl breaking out over who got to fuck his ass first, but the Blackjack - Steve thought this one was Bradshaw but damned if he was going to memorize who was who in all these no-hoper tag teams - swept a hand like Brian was a door he was holding open for Faarooq. 

Now, Steve had never even seen Faarooq crack a smile before, but he actually laughed. "Well, damn, I appreciate you being so polite." Brian's eyes sparkled and he opened his mouth but, before he could get a word out, Faarooq hooked two fingers in his cheek. Brian twisted around to glare at him. "But how about we share? I remember Pillman from Atlanta," Faarooq told Bradshaw, "and when his mouth is idle, it's the devil's playground." 

Bradshaw snorted and glanced at little Jeff Hardy, who was still lurking in a corner and blushing. "I noticed." He caught Brian's jaw in his hand. "Mind if I take this end? I like that gold on there." 

"Fine by me." Faarooq's hands slid to Brian's hips. 

After all the cock Brian'd taken already, Faarooq had no trouble getting balls deep on his first thrust in. Brian moaned around the fingers in his mouth until Bradshaw slipped him something better. 

What surprised Steve was how deep Bradshaw got in him without getting his dick puked on. Since when could Brian Pillman deepthroat worth a damn? Nobody in the world gave better head, Brian had a tongue that didn't quit and he could suck a golfball through a garden hose, but he'd never been able to take it that deep. Watching Brian's throat working around Bradshaw's big dick, Steve couldn's stop wondering who'd taught him. 

Once Bradshaw and Faarooq got going, it didn't take them long to settle into a rhythm that had Brian moaning. As bad as his dick ached watching Brian getting pounded at both ends, watching Bradshaw fuck the lipstick off his mouth, no damn way Steve was going to jack it here. Not even when Brian came, whining around the cock in his throat, and they kept right on fucking him like they didn't even notice. Brian hung between them like a ragdoll, the only sign he was still conscious his needy, muffled moans. 

When Bradshaw and Farooq finished they did it in sync and left Brian leaking come at both ends. Neither of them bothered to pull his come-soaked panties up from around his thighs and they weren't too gentle dropping him back on the counter for the next man, either. Grunting at the impact, Brian flipped them a gold-painted double bird without raising his head. He got two big slaps on his ass for his troubles.

Clapping a big hand on Jeff Hardy's shoulder, Bradshaw said, "Try him now, son, we softened him up for you." The Hardy boy looked at the two of them like they were his new personal heroes, then set his jaw and turned back to Brian. Steve could practically see his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of Brian's ass, red from the smacks and dripping come. 

Panting, cheek still planted on the countertop, Brian crooked a finger to beckon him over. 

Steve wasn't sure the kid would manage to put it in before he shot his load this time either, but he did. The way he whimpered and moaned, it wouldn't be long though. Hardy's hands roamed across Brian's back, up to grab a big double handful of Brian's hair, back down over his shoulders and sides. Brian kept his mouth shut except for a few gasps and grunts, laying limp and docile on the counter while he tried to catch his breath.

It wasn't until Steve realized he could hear the wet slap of Hardy's skin against Brian's echoing off the tiles that he wondered why the room had gone quiet. Once he took his eyes off the action it was easy to spot the reason why standing in the doorway. 

Jim Ross's eyes were fixed in the general vicinity of the light fixtures. "You alright there, Brian?"

Brian popped up on his elbows and grinned at him. "Never better." He wriggled his hips. "Get the fuck off, kid, you can finish later. Important man like good ol' JR gets the VIP treatment." Hardy pulled out and hopped back so fast it left his cute little prick wagging like the tail on a puppy. Steve couldn't help but let out a laugh at that, and Hardy glanced sheepishly between him and JR.

"No thank you," said JR, turning around. "I'm a happily married man. I'll leave you to your business. Mrs. Runnels." He tipped his hat to Marlena on his way out the door.

It was Brian who broke the silence. "What the fuck are you waiting for, Jeff, a written invitation? Jesus." 

Hardy shuffled back up and gave Brian his prick without protest. Rattled as he looked, it still didn't take him long to get going. 

"C'mon, harder!" Brian snarled, tilting his hips. Steve could see Jeff wasn't going at the angle he liked best, so poor Brian just had to take care of his own needs as best he could. "Come on, Jeff, fuck me like a man!"

Cute little Jeff did his best, but he couldn't even get Brian hard, let alone get him off. It might not be enough for Brian after the fucking he'd already had tonight, but it made a damn pretty picture for Steve. Jeff's fingers clenched on the sparkly fabric of Brian's dress as he moaned, dragging it even further up his hips. Steve could see the bruises he'd left there earlier, when he'd been making Brian scream like little Jeff Hardy never would. 

With a whimper, Jeff added his spooge to the mess inside Brian. He stayed there, eyes closed and cheeks red, shivering, while Brian watched him in the mirror. 

"Alright," Brian said after a while, "go on. You're cute, but there's guys waiting." Jeff pulled out obediently, then, quick as a hiccough, leaned down to peck Brian on the shoulder before he scampered off.

Brian's eyes slid to the big man behind him. "Hey, there, rookie." He grinned. "I've never done it with an Olympian before."

A smile lit up Mark Henry's face. "Brian. You look beautiful." He stepped forward and smoothed the wrinkles in Brian's dress.

"I dirty up nice." 

Henry's hands strayed to the soaking panties around Brian's thighs. "Can I take these off?"

"Be my guest."

Henry slid the ruined panties down and helped Brian out of them, lifting one foot after the other, sitting Brian on his shoulder to keep the weight off his bum ankle. He set the filthy scrap of lace down on the far right of the counter, under the hand towel machine, with a wet plop, then went back to stroking Brian's hips. "You're beautiful," he said again.

Steve rolled his eyes. If this fat-ass rookie thought that talking sweet and lifting shit at the damn Olympics was gonna impress anybody, then he was even stupider than he was green. 

Henry picked Brian up like he didn't weigh a damn thing and sat him on the counter. "Is this better on your ankle?"

The sappy smile was bad enough, but Brian saying, "Yeah. Now kiss me," was just too damn much. Henry cupped his hands on Brian's jaw and kissed him like they were at the damn altar, it made Steve want to puke.

"Brian, you know you can charge extra for that, don't you?" Steve took a swig of his beer. "Yeah, you keep that in mind next time you're selling your ass down at the ninty nine cent store." 

"Hey. Don't talk to him like that." And if there was steel in Henry's voice now, it didn't necessarily follow that Steve was intimidated, even if the guy did weigh four fifty and deadlift twice that. "Stone Cold, I like you, man, but you got no reason to talk to Brian like that."

"Yeah, Steve." Brian smirked at him over Henry's shoulder. "Don't talk to me like that. C'mon, Mark." Brian nipped his ear. Steve hoped it fucking hurt. Brian always did bite too hard. "I want you."

Henry kissed him again while he slipped it in. Moaning, Brian spread his legs wider to let him in deeper. "Ah, Mark." His hips twitched and the clamped his knees on Henry's hips. "Right there."

Judging by the fuss Brian was making, Henry must've kept right on nailing Brian how he needed it. Or at maybe that was what he _wanted_ Steve to think, putting on his little show, tossing his head and moaning like he'd never had better. If he was going to judge, Steve didn't think it really looked like Henry was fucking him rough enough to get Brian going like that. Yeah, maybe he had this Olympic fat-ass fooled into believing it was just that damn easy to be sweet with him and watch him melt, but Steve knew him better. If Brian was really that hard up for a soft touch and a couple kisses he could've had that at home in the first place, instead of panting after Hart on national goddamn TV and ruining the one decent thing in his life.

Henry slipped a hand between them and Brian came, screaming. Steve looked away. Fucking mind games.

Henry started to ease back to jerk himself but a squeeze of Brian's legs around him stopped him. "Come in me," said Brian, and kissed Henry's neck. "I want you to." 

Kissing him again, Henry scooped Brian up in his arms to fuck him mid-air. Brian's startled laugh echoed off the linoleum and Steve set to finishing off his six pack in earnest. Maybe by the time he was done these two would have stopped mistaking this bathroom for their goddamn honeymoon suite.

Panting, Henry set Brian back on the counter and pulled out with another kiss. "Thank you, Brian."

Brian, still sporting a big, dreamy smile, leaned up to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. "You're welcome."

"You want to be up here or standing?"

"Standing." Henry set Brian on his feet and gave him a squeeze, which Brian leaned into. "Thanks, Mark. You're a sweet guy, you know that?"

"Owww!" Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw a flash of tie-dye. "You cats got a real groovy scene here, I'm digging the love vibe." Dude Love sauntered over to Steve and pointed a pair of finger guns at him. "Steve-O, my main man! What are you doing all on your lonesome at this love-in? If you need somebody to love, a partner to tease and sqeeeze and take care of all your needs, all you gotta do is call my name and Dude Love will come a-running, baby!" 

Steve glared. 

"Hey, I dig it, you wanna sit back and take in the sights." Dude winked at him and swiveled his hips to turn to Brian and Henry. They were still cuddling and Dude Love shimmied up to join them in the stupidest looking group hug Steve had ever seen in his damn life.

"You take good care of my friend Brian," said Henry with a big stupid smile, looking like Dude Love had just about charmed the pants back off him.

"Don't you worry, Mark, my man, Dude Love has got nothing but the best of loving for fine Brian here." Dude pulled the two of them in for a kiss and Steve fished another beer out of his cooler. 

After a little schoolgirl whispering between the two of them, Henry pressed a kiss to Brian's forehead and headed for the door. Dude, in the meantime, was feeling Brian up and, to Steve's annoyance, finding all the spots to make him yelp. Brian wriggled as Dude's fingers played up and down his body from thighs to throat.

"Brian, baby, which foot are you good to stand on?"

"Right," grunted Brian.

Dude hooked an arm under Brian's left knee and lifted his leg to his hip. Brian's dress rode back up, giving Steve a clear view between his legs. Brian gasped when he thrust in and Steve could see how deep he was, hips flush against Brian's ass. Dude worked him with the kind of long thrusts Brian always loved, sucking bruises onto his neck and shoulder. Brian's cock wasn't even hard, but Dude had him hollering.

Dude hiked Brian's leg up a little higher and Steve watched his former partner shake. Brian's eyes rolled back when Dude's hand wandered to play with his balls and taint. Watching Brian fall apart with Dude's long, thick cock sliding in and out of his hole had Steve's dick aching. The fact that if more of the boys wanted Brian they'd damn well have him tonight, fucked out or not, had him just about busting his zipper. 

Brian barely made a peep when Dude came in him. "Brian, baby," said Dude, easing his leg down and holding Brian upright agaisnt him, "you still here on planet earth?"

Brian panted against his neck. "Yeah. Gimme another." 

"Owww, Mercy! I see why my man Steve-O thinks you're such a cool cat, Brian, I dig your style." Dude spun Brian around and dipped him low, throwing a wink at the nearest guy. "How about I put you in the hands of smooth crooning Jesse James here and let him serenade you to new heigts of passion?"

Head dangling upside-down in Dude's embrace, Brian opened one beary eye to peer at James. "Wanna fuck?"

James laughed and held his arms out to take Brian from Dude. "Shit, that might've done a number on that skinny kid you had so scared he didn't know whether to piss his pants or cum in his diapers, but I was a motherfucking roadie. I had skankier than your ass any weeknight, and that was the good tours." He grabbed a double handful of Brian's exposed ass and swung him around before bending him over the counter. "Now I'd tell you to pull your skirt up, but half the roster's done that job for me." 

Hooking his arms under Brian's, James hoised him up almost straight and slid the little straps off his shoulders. He pushed the dress down, grabbing a double handful of Brian's pecs like he was showing him off for the mirror. The shape of the dress and the way it was pushed down just enough to show Brian's tits made him look even more like something out of a porno mag. 

He kept at Brian's nipples, pinching, rubbing, diddling them with his thumbs. Oh, he just about managed to stick his cock in and give the occasional, disinterested thrust, but it was plain to see where his interest lay. 

"Ah, god." Brian bit his lip and Steve knew he was trying not to whimper. James was whispering in Brian's ear nonstop while he played with his tits and Steve could see Brian's cock twitch when he hit a nerve. 

Brian gave up on trying not to whimper when James started squeezing and pulling his nipples like he was milking him. Looking at those swollen, red little buds poking out between James's thumbs and forefingers, Steve felt his dick throb in his pants. 

When the door slammed open, James looked over his shoulder and froze like a rabbit. He gave a few more hald-assed humps, but it was clear the arrival of this new crowd had taken the lead out of his pencil. He pulled out, slapped Brian's ass, and tried to play it casual as he sidled out of there as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Not everyone had the balls to run with ECW boys.

Brian grinned at them in the mirror. "You motherfuckers are late to the party. You got a thing for sloppy seconds?"

Behind his curtain of curls, Raven sneered. "We're used to being picked last. Misfits like us, who felt that pain all through high school, become numb to it. And the ones that are twisted enough... we learn to turn it to our advantage." He nodded to Richards. "Fuck him, Stevie."

His boy did as he was told, watching him worshipfully over Brian's shoulder. Raven stepped forward and ran his fingers over Richards's cock as it pistoned in and out of Brian. Richards whimpered. 

Raven's other hand shot out to grab Richards's balls while he got a finger into Brian. "Don't come." Brian threw his head back against Richards's shoulder and moaned while Raven fingered him.

This wasn't something they'd done together. Steve couldn't take his eyes off Brian, writhing in that filthy dress while Raven loosened him up to take a second cock. He was getting hard again and starting to buck against Raven's fingers like he wanted more. 

It wasn't long until Raven gave him more. Richards looked like he was about to cry trying not to shoot when Raven pushed in beside him. Brian just about wailed until he leaned forward to bite Raven's shoulder, wrapping a leg around his waist to urge him deeper. His left, of course, Steve couldn't help but think. He'd made sure of that.

Raven grunted and gave a rough thrust that made Richards whine. Steve couldn't see past their combined curls, but he would bet Brian made him bleed. Brian thrashed between them.

"Harder, you shits."

Raven laughed. "You heard the man, Stevie. Flyin' Brian needs it harder."

They were rough with him, jerking him up and down on their cocks, pounding him in two different rhythms. Steve couldn't stop thinking about what it would feel like to have Brian again tonight, after these two'd had their way with him. They both thrust deep and Brian wailed. Steve didn't need to see to know he'd made a mess of Raven's shirt. 

"Come, Stevie," Raven panted, and his boy sobbed and did as he was told. Raven finished himself off in Brian with slow, languid thrusts before he let Richards pull out. 

"Alright," he said, gesturing to Richards to put Brian, still looking dazed, back on the counter, "we're done here."

While they slouched out, goddamn Heyman sauntered up like he owned the place. "Terri, Dustin. This is quite the party you've got here."

Marlena smiled at him. "Thank you, Paul E. It's hard to throw a real party so far from Hollywood, but we do try."

"And you have succeeded _magnificently_!" he declared, gesturing grandly. "Not to take any credit from the guest of honor." He leaned up against Brian's back. "Hello, Pillman."

Brian lifted his head to grin at him. "Hi." He gave a little wave with his tied hands.

"Was this how you pictured your WWF career when you were using ECW as your personal stepping stone? Playing fourth banana to the Harts and whoring yourself in the locker room?" He reached between them to unzip and slipped his prick into Brian with no visible effort. "Or maybe this was how you got the job?"

Mouthing off at Brian always was a sucker's game. "You should have tried that, Paul E. Maybe if you'd offered me a blowjob or two I would have stuck around your chickenshit promotion a little longer."

Heyman fucked him in short, sharp thrusts. "Jesus, I should have got in before Raven and Stevie." He slapped Brian's ass. "Clench, or we'll be here all night."

Brian laughed. "Sure we will. Way you used to look at me, we'll be here five minutes tops." He tossed his head theatrically and added, between gasping, breathy cries, "three, if I fake it. Oh, oooh, Paul."

Steve didn't actually look at his watch to time it, but he figured Brian had it pegged just about right. Heyman leaned forward after he finished, holding himself up with his hands planted on Brian's lower back. "You remember when you told me you were gonna whip out your johnson and piss in my ring?" he panted, to Brian's throaty laugh. "Allow me to return the favor and piss in yours."

Well, Brian wasn't his boy any more, and if he wanted to let this lying piece of trash piss in him on top of everything else that was his goddamn business. But Steve had just put down a six pack and a half and he'd be goddamned if he was gonna sit there and watch another man piss when there was an unoccupied urinal not six feet away, so he pushed out of his chair and walked his ass over there to take a leak. And if, as it so happened, he was still going like a goddamned stallion by the time Paul E had pulled out, shaken off, and tucked his little pecker away where it belonged, then maybe that was something for Brian to think on or not, he didn't really give a damn either way.

Heyman grabbed one of the plastic cocks off the counter - a big, sparkly gold one complete with wrinkles on the nutsack - and shoved it into Brian with a sloppy, wet noise that made Steve's dick twitch. "To match your dress," he said.

Cactus didn't waste any time once Paul E had stepped away, just went at Brian's reddened, dripping hole hell for leather. He didn't even bother to pull the dildo out, just shoved right in alongside it. Moaning, Brian pressed his forehead to the counter and squeezed his eyes shut. Finally getting to be too much for him, maybe. Cactus laid a slap on the junction of his ass and thigh.

"Eyes open, Brian." With his other hand, Cactus grabbed Brian by the hair and lifted his head. "You look at him."

A rough thrust drove Brian up off his feet and his eyes snapped open. They locked eyes in the mirror while Cactus kept right on pounding Brian, making him gasp and moan while Steve watched. He yelled when Cactus reached down to jerk his barely hard cock and squirmed like he wanted to reach down and push his hands away. 

Knowing Brian'd had more than he could take and Cactus was going to give him another helping anyways got him hot all over again and he slid his hand down to unzip his jeans. Brian watched him like a hawk. Cactus probably watched him too, but Steve didn't give a damn about that, what he cared about was giving Brian a good look at his dick as he slid his thumb over the head. 

He stroked himself in time with Cactus's thrusts, watching Brian's face and listening to him whimper and gasp. He didn't know if Brian could come again, but he liked the idea of trying to make him. "Come on, Brian. You always loved to watch me. Used to get you real hot in the shower, you remember that?"

He couldn't hear the breathless "yes," but he could read Brian's lips. He gave his dick a harder squeeze and groaned. "Yeah, figures. You got guys fucking you every which way and at the end of the night you still wanna look at my dick." He interrupted his own fond laughter with an involuntary gasp. He was so fucking keyed up, it wasn't going to take much jerking to bring himself off.

"Steve." This time he heard Brian's voice. He moaned.

"C'mon, Brian." He jerked himself faster. "C'mon, I'm almost there."

Hearing Brian scream, seeing his hips bucking as he came dry, was enough to make Steve see white. The strangled groan from Cactus barely registered. 

He came back to himself while Cactus was setting Brian on his damn lap and the plastic balls of the dildo were digging into his thigh.

"I think you'd better see the fellow home, Steve," said Cactus. Steve gave him a short nod. Cactus returned it and turned away. Steve didn't watch him leave.

Brian leaned heavily on his shoulder, panting. It was just habit to wrap an arm around his shoulders. 

"Can you walk?"

"No."

Goldust glided up beside him and extended his hand with a little cough. 

"What?" Then it clicked. "Aw, hell." He shifted Brian on his knee and reached behind him to grip the gold toy. Brian groaned and pressed his face to the crook of Steve's shoulder as he pulled out the toy. "Here, you goddamn freak," said Steve, slapping the wet dildo into Goldust's hand, "take it."

While Goldust and Marlena tidied up their goddamn party favors and got the hell out of there, Steve untied the bow at Brian's wrists. He powered to his feet, dragging Brian up with him. "Come on, stand your ass up."

Brian leaned on him, bracing himself with a hand on his hip. Steve knew the bastard was trying to avoid putting anything on his neck.

The mirror caught Steve's eye. Brian's fucking dress wasn't covering a damn thing and half the roster's jizz was running down his legs. The other half was on Steve's damn jeans, now. "Jesus Christ, we're gonna get arrested," he said, and Brian laughed. "Goddamn it, son, at least try to fix yourself." He tugged the skirt of Brian's dress as decent as it ever had been and pushed the straps back up. 

He folded up the chair and passed it to Brian while he grabbed the cooler. "If you wanna lean on me, you can carry that."

Brian gave the chair a shake. "They ought to get some of these shitty safety chairs for the arena."

"Yeah, yeah. Get to hobbling, I ain't staying here all night."

They walked back to Steve's locker room and if anyone saw, none of them had the balls to say anything about it. Fucked out as he was, Brian wasn't walking too bad once they got going. Steve kept an arm snug around his waist anyways. Damned if he was hauling Brian's ass up off the floor if he fell.

Brian, the cooler, and the damn chair all came with him into the shower. He set down the cooler, grabbed the chair from Brian, and set it up under the showerhead. When he reached around Brian to feel for a zipper, it didn't even surprise him to feel Brian's arms around his waist. Fucking Brian.

He found the zipper and unzipped it, sliding the dress down Brian's shoulders. Brian let go of his hug for as long as it took to free his arms from the spaghetti straps, then went right back to it while Steve shoved the dress down over his hips.

"Sit your ass down."

Brian sat, and yelped when Steve turned the water on. "Fuckin' warn a guy," he muttered. 

Steve took a knee in front of him and didn't look at that shit-eating grin of his for more than a second. He lifted Brian's feet to pull the filthy dress the rest of the way off and toss it aside. Then he did the same to those ugly fucking shoes. He didn't want to hear any of Brian's shit, so he was gentle when he go to the left one.

Brian stretched languidly in the chair while Steve stripped off and grabbed himself a shower beer. "Don't I get one?"

"Hell no. Buy your own damn beer."

"Come on," wheedled Brian, and Steve made the mistake of looking at those eyes. 

He passed Brian a damn beer. Steve was dog-tired but he wasn't goddamn dead, so he took a moment to admire the sight of Brian Pillman, naked and wet, with trashy gold press-on nails and a beer in his hand.

They drank in silence while he soaped Brian up and scrubbed him down. Brian jerked away when he reached for his hair with a hand full of soap suds.

"Don't do that. You got any fucking conditioner?"

"What fuckin' year do you think this is? No I don't have any goddamned conditiner."

He ran a hand over his head in irritation and Brian just about fell out of the chair laughing. If Steve hadn't been the one who'd have to pick him the hell back up again he would have given him a shove.

"Not like we ever used the same shit anyways," he grumbled. He rinsed his hand off and worked his fingers in Brian's scalp, at least he could rinse the fucking come out of his hair. How the hell did it get there anyways? Probably leaned his head in the puddle that dripped out his ass when Romeo had him perched on the counter. "You're a goddamned mess, you know that?"

"Good thing I got you to clean me up."

Steve snapped, "You don't have me for a damn thing, you hear me?" but he kept washing Brian's hair anyways.

When he turned off the water and boosted Brian up out of the chair, he was more than half expecting Brian to lean in for a kiss. But he didn't, so Steve had to. It went on longer than it should have but shorter than he wanted it to, and by the time their lips parted Brian was in his arms. 

"You want to do the walk of shame back to whichever damn Hart you're bunking with or you want to come home with me?"

This time, Brian kissed him. "You."

"It's only for tonight."

"I know. Just take me home."

Steve did.


End file.
